Saturday Story 2025 #11 (The Black Queen: Legend – Part 15
This unique take on the world of The Black Queen continues today on my Patreon. This tale plays with the ideas of the original stories and turns them upside down in unexpected ways. It will be a long multi-parter with plenty of surprises along the way. Synopsis below:
When Jeremy is tasked with writing a piece about an erotic urban legend, he discovers some truths are better left buried.
The Black Queen tries to control Jeremy, but then something happens she did not expect. Please enjoy.
To read this story before anyone else, head over to my Patreon page and become Spell… B-O-U-N-D, too. The minimum pledge for this type of early access is $5 per month.
An excerpt is available below:
https://www.patreon.com/posts/124450102
Deirdre’s hand closed around the helmet that encased Laura’s head, her grip firm and precise. Without hesitation, she lifted it, the metal creaking as it separated from Laura’s skin. The faint hum of machinery died, and an eerie silence fell over the room, broken only by the sound of Jeremy’s angry protests trying to find out her condition.
“Laura? Laura, can you hear me? Are you okay?”
The hacker’s face was pale, her features slack, and her eyes glassy and unfocused. Deirdre tilted her head, studying her as one might study a broken doll.
“Laura is not here anymore, Jeremy,” she smirked. “She’s an instrument now, a mindless puppet for her Queen.”
Laura’s gaze drifted upward, her eyes locking onto the Black Queen’s. There was no spark of defiance, no flicker of resistance. Only a hollow emptiness, a void where her free will once resided. The Black Queen reached out, her fingers brushing against Laura’s cheek. The touch was cold, impersonal, yet it made the mindfucked woman shivered to the core.
“I must obey The Black Queen…” Laura drooled.
“That’s right, bitch. Say it again so there’s no doubt left in Jeremy’s mind.”
“I must obey The Black Queen…” Laura repeated, her brain awash by a wave of pleasure as the words fell from her lips. Her mind was a wasteland, a barren expanse where thoughts no longer dared to tread. The Black Queen’s control was absolute, a suffocating shroud that had consumed her. Her shadow had taken root and would not be dislodged.
“No!” Jeremy screamed, his voice echoing through the cold, sterile room. The Black Queen’s goons, their faces hidden behind sleek, metallic masks, tightened their grip on his arms, digging into his flesh as he struggled. The reporter bit his tongue as he twisted in their grasp, his feet scraping against the polished floor.
Deirdre’s thralls were unyielding, their strength unnatural, as though they were not entirely human. One of them drove a fist into his side, and Jeremy’s lungs burned from the pain. He doubled over, his vision blurring, but he refused to stop fighting. He couldn’t stop. Not now. Not when Laura and everything he knew was slipping away from him.
The Black Queen stood a few feet away, her silhouette outlined by the glow of the screens. Her voice made Jeremy’s blood boil. “How pathetic,” she said. “You think you can save her? You think you can stop me?”(…)
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